


Blue Fox

by HowFar_ToFall



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Humanstuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-07-05
Packaged: 2017-12-15 05:40:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/845949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HowFar_ToFall/pseuds/HowFar_ToFall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She walked into my life so casually, like she knew she belonged there. She just strolled into my house with her worries and her fears and all of her stupid words. Words, words, words! Oh look, it's my little sister, all over again...except she's not. She's different. She's not like anyone I've met before. She's unique. She's...she's someone, and I haven't seen a someone in a long time. She's Aranea Serket...my blue fox.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Moments

Life has its moments.

It has its good ones, its bad ones, its happy and sad ones, and all the ones in between and beyond. Of course, it’s hard to comprehend notions that go beyond “happy” and “sad” if you’re a twenty-two year old single woman drinking away all of your worries at a bar when you really should be in bed preparing for tomorrow, but eh, I've always been a free-thinker. Wild, some called me. Look at her, look at that girl! She’s not going to amount to anything, too much of her father’s blood in her. And they were right! I’m maintaining steady D’s and below in all of my courses, drinking too much, working too little, and doing too much of the wrong kind of sleeping. I’m amazed that I’m still healthy and not pregnant. Enough about me, though: back to moments.

Moments can be anything, really: a kiss, a punch, a glance, a whisper, a scream, a glare, a thought, a word…anything. But moments are what make up life, and we wouldn't be here, wouldn't be alive without them. Moments are passing now, as I sit here on this stool, drinking more and more beverages whose names are only getting vaguer and vaguer. I’m so dizzy I can barely see. I think it’s time to head home.

I go back out to my car and hit the wrong button a few times before unlocking it and getting in. It takes me three tries to put the key in, and it’s a miracle I get out of the parking lot alive. After barely escaping multiple wrecks, I nearly drive my car into my house. My mom bought me this house for my twenty-first birthday. I wish she'd bought me a new father.

I'm barely able to unlock the front door. Once I do, I stagger inside and promptly pass out on the living room floor.

This is why it’s not okay to get drunk.


	2. Enter Ms. Inquisitive

When I open my eyes, my head is pounding. I’m not in my bed (I'm not surprised), but I soon realize that I'm actually not in any bed. I’m lying on my floor. I groan and force myself to sit up, knowing from too much experience that I have to take some antacids immediately.

My front door opens and a young woman walks in. She stops when she sees me.

“Oh! You're awake!”

“Yeah, but I'm not feeling too hot, so take it and run,” she blushes.

“I, ah, I’ve actually been in and out checking up on you. I saw you drive in last night and I got kind of worried, so I decided to simply stop by hourly and see if your situation has changed at all. Oh, I left some antacid tablets and pain pills to your left in case you happened to awaken and need them,” I immediately turn to find a glass of water and a plate with a couple pills and antacids. I take them as swiftly as I can. 

“Who are you, anyhow?” I ask.

“Oh! My apologies for not introducing myself sooner. My name is Aranea Serket. I work as a nurse at the Beforus Central Hospital.”

“I suppose you live in the neighborhood?”

“No, actually. I was just driving home from a friend’s house when I saw you. You almost had a head-on collision with my car, then again with your house. I decided to stay and make sure you were alright.”

“And am I alright?”

“I would assume so, as you seem lucid.”

"Alright then. Help me up, I need to get to bed," I say, offering my hands. She helps me up and I slide an arm around her shoulders while she supports me around my waist. "It's upstairs," so we stagger up the stairs and I guide her to my bedroom. By this point, she's practically carrying me. I feel a little bit bad, since she is pretty tiny. As she gently helps me lie down and pulls the rumpled sheets over me, I close my eyes and sigh. "I'm sorry you had to see me like this. It must be an awful first impression."

"It's alright, really. But I suppose if you feel that way about it, we could go out for coffee sometime? If you would like to, if you're free, if I'm not working, if—"

"Sure. Just please stop talking," I reply pleadingly.

"Oh. Right. Sorry," I feel her sit on the bed. She's loaded with questions...I can practically feel them. I sigh. 

"Okay, fine. Talk. But I say stop and you stop."

"Okay! What's your name?"

"Porrim Maryam."

"Why were you out drinking so much and so late?"

"That's personal."

"Where do you work?"

"I don't."

"How can you afford this house?"

"My mom bought it."

"Are you in college?"

"Beforus University. Go sharks," I say without any enthusiasm. 

"Do you have any pets?"

"No."

"Are you in a relationship?"

"No."

"When's your birthday?"

"August seventh."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-two."

"Do you have any kids?"

"No."

"Siblings?"

"A sister."

"What's her name?"

"Are you being tested over my life or something?" I open my eyes and see her blush. 

"Well no...I'm just curious, I guess." 

"Well don't be. I'm not that interesting."

"But we're still going to meet up for coffee, aren't we?"

"You don't have many friends, do you?" she blushes and shakes her head. I chuckle a little. "Alright. Give me your number and I'll give you mine. I'll call you when I'm feeling up to it."

"Can't I stay? I'd like to help!" I raise an eyebrow at her. "And...I'm on involuntary vacation."

"So you got fired."

"Ah—temporarily!" she protests. 

"And?" I prompt. 

"I'm having roommate troubles," I sigh at her dejected words. 

"Alright, fine. You can stay."

"Great!"

"There's a spare bedroom down the ha-all?" my statement becomes a question as she ignores me and lies on my bed. "What are you doing?"

"In case you need something," she replies. "You have a terrible hangover. Doesn't this make sense?"

"Well..." I can't argue. "Just don't invade my personal space!"

"Oh no, I'd never dream of it!" she replies. "I won't even get under the sheets, see?" she curls up on the bed, facing me. I watch her warily as she falls asleep, peace sliding over her face. Trying to fall asleep, I close my own eyes, but find that my exhaustion is so intense it won't allow me any rest. I grit my teeth and realize that my headache is slowly returning. I need medicine, but I'm too dizzy to stand, and...oh what the hell. It's not like I know her. 

I shake her shoulder and she opens her eyes. 

"Mm...? Oh. Yes, do you need something?"

"Yeah, um..."

"Aranea."

"Aranea. My headache's coming back."

"Already?" she checks the clock and frowns. "Hmm..." she yawns and stands. "I'll be right back," I hear her go downstairs and the front door opens, then closes, then opens again. She returns. "These are stronger. Not too powerful, but they should be enough. Also there’s some melatonin in here, since I'm assuming you're having trouble falling asleep.”

“Thanks,” I sit up and take the pills, along with the glass of water she offers me. 

“I'm just doing my job.”

“Your former job?”

“It’s still my job!” she replies in a hurt tone. I chuckle.

“Right,” she looks away. “Hey if it makes you feel any better, I’ve been fired tons of times.”

“But you're different! Your mom actually likes you. Mine favors my little sister so much that she barely gave me anything…ever,” I grit my teeth. Her sob story is starting to get to my heart. 

“You said you had roommate troubles. Why don't you stay with the friend you were visiting?” 

“Well…um…she’s…she…”

“She’s kind of a whore?” I ask bluntly. Aranea frowns at me.

“She just hasn't found the right one yet.”

“So…she’s a whore.”

“…” Aranea looks away and sighs. “I’m just a sad person, aren't I?” she asks quietly. “Fired, roommate problems, family problems, friend problems, money problems, gambling problems…”

“Gambling? You don’t look like a gambler.”

“I…it runs in the family,” she mutters. “Every day I wake up and wish to not go out and not gamble that night…every day it doesn’t come true. That’s why I’m in financial trouble. At least I’m not in any legal predicaments…yet…”

“Okay, fine,” I say. “You've got me. I'll help you.”

“What?”

“Yeah. You’re like a puppy: lost and helpless with no clue what to do next.”

“…”

“Stay here today, we’ll go out for coffee when I wake up, okay?” she nods.

“Okay,” I lie back down and she curls up on the bed, making my puppy comparison appear even more truthful.

“And Porrim…thanks,” she says softly.

Then I'm out.


	3. Out for Coffee

When I open my eyes, she’s gone. I scowl, wondering why she would have left. I roll and stretch, yawning. All the symptoms of my hangover are gone, thank God. I stagger up and head to my closet to find some fresh clothes. As I sift through them, I find myself absentmindedly wondering about Aranea. She’s the first person I’ve met here who actually seems to care about me as a person…

I hear a footstep and turn. She’s standing in the doorway with a glass of water, watching me.

“Yes?” I ask.

“You promised you’d take me out for coffee,” she replies. I smirk.

“Hopeful, are you?” she blushes.

“What? No!” I chuckle.

“Hey, I don’t mind,” I say as I turn back to my closet. “If you want me, so what?”

“I don’t!” she protests. “I don’t even know you!”

“That doesn’t stop most people.”

“Well, in case you hadn’t noticed, I am not most people. I’m just one me.”

“Good. I’m kinda sick of most people. I’ll change and meet you outside in five,” she closes the door as she leaves and I hurriedly change into today’s (this afternoon’s) outfit: a dark green corset and black jeans. Sliding on some heeled boots, I head downstairs and out to where Aranea is standing by a blue convertible.

“The one nice thing my mom ever bought me,” she sighs at my questioning glance. “Hop in!” I do and she slides into the driver’s seat. The engine hums to life and she begins to drive. I realize we’re headed to a little shop down the road that sells exactly two things: coffee and ice cream. I chuckle. “What?”

“You’re seriously taking me here?” she blushes.

“Well…yeah,” I open my mouth to speak. She seems to sense my thoughts. “And no, I still do not want you, this still is not a date!”

“Good, because as a first one, this would bite,” I say. She looks at me briefly. “What?” we pull into the parking lot and slide out of the car, taking a seat outside at a table beneath an umbrella. A waitress comes over. 

"Hey, is there anything I can get for you two?"

"Mm..." I think. "I'll just have a medium coffee shake."

"Ah, same here."

"Alright then," the waitress walks away. I raise my eyebrows at Aranea. 

"I come here all the time, it's practically all I ever get!" she says, blushing violently. 

"Mm," I smirk. Aranea's eyes suddenly widen as she stares at something over my shoulder. I see her trying to hide her face. "What's wrong?"

"There's this guy...he thinks he's a big stud and...I don't have the heart to keep saying no!"

"Who?" she buries her face in her hands and mumbles, just as someone comes up behind me. I look up. 

"Hey Aranea," he grins. "Who's your friend?" she doesn't look up. He walks around to her and pulls her up. 

"What are you doing?" I ask sharply, standing. He turns himself and Aranea to face me. His arm is around her waist. 

"You want to join us? You're welcome," his gaze shoots straight to my cleavage. I stand there, putting up with the way he's eyeing me, until he suddenly decides it's perfectly okay to reach behind Aranea. I can tell he's squeezed her because her eyes widen and she squeaks in shock, unable to get any redder. I cannot believe the way he's treating her! 

"Let her go," I growl. She whimpers and I realize he must have tightened his grip. "She isn't your toy. No woman is your toy. We're just as powerful as men."

"Sure thing," he winks. I hear him slip his hand into the back of her skirt and can't take this stupidity anymore; I punch his lights out. Aranea stares at me in shock and I grit my teeth. 

"You...you just...!"

"No woman deserves to be treated like that," I reply simply. "I'd have done the same for any girl," she smiles. 

"Well...no one's ever stood up for me, so thanks."

"Don't mention it," we sit back down as the guy's friends come haul him away. "I take it you don't—?"

"I don't have anyone in my life, no, and I'm not looking," she says hastily. 

"Suitors?"

"Er...a few...two besides him. One is another pretend stud and one actually is one."

"Well why don't you go out with one?" she blushes furiously. "Oh! Oh..."

"I'm not heterosexual," she mutters. 

"Mm. And you said this isn't a date!"

"It isn't!"

"Sure..."

"Please, can we not talk about this?" she pleads. 

"Alright, alright. What do you want to talk about?"

"You."

"Uh, no. No."

"But—!"

"No!" she pouts. "Still no. I'm immune."

"You're no fun, that's what you are."

"Mm," I reply as the waitress returns and hands us our shakes. "Like you're any better," she sighs. "Was that out of line?"

"Only because it's the truth. I literally have a roommate and one friend. All of their friends hate me."

"Hm..." I frown. "Well, I don't hate you."

"True! Well...as of right now."

"You seem really nice. Don't take this as me hitting on you, but I don't think I could ever hate you.""

"Um...thanks," she blushes a bit. "So you don't care that I'm homosexual?"

"Only if you don't care that I'm bisexual," I chuckle, watching her carefully. Her face lights up. 

"Really? You don't care?" 

"Not a bit. Do others?"

"Yes. That's why some of my friends' friends aren't my friends. ...Okay, a lot of them."

"Hm. If they aren't going to like you for you, you shouldn't want to be with them. It's just going to end in heartache for you."

"I suppose so..."

"But hey, there's gotta be a reason besides that. Come on, lay it on me."

"Mm..."

"I'm not going to judge you!"

"No! It's not that! It's just that...heh...I have a tendency to talk too much about things nobody cares about."

"So does my sister. See, we're a match made in heaven," she blushes violently.

"I don't want you!"

"Right," I chuckle. "Hey, I'm kidding, lighten up."

"Sorry..." she looks away. I smile.

"Don't worry about it," for some reason, I actually feel myself starting to trust her. Maybe it's because she seems like she has such a bad life or maybe it's because she's the first person since I left home to take a serious interest in me, but I do feel like I can trust her. She has an innocent look about her...kind of cute, actually. I notice that the sun is setting and check my phone. "Wow, that was a longer hangover than normal...how about you check in with your roommate and see if you're still having problems?"

"Why?" she asks suspiciously. I smile at her. 

"So I know if I need to straighten up the guest room," her eyes widen. "Er, if that's okay with you..."

"It's wonderful," she smiles at me sweetly and takes out her phone, sending a quick text message. She receives a few in rapid succession and winces, showing me her phone. I raise my eyebrows at the vicious words.

"Wow. What did you do?"

"Er...I may or may not have scolded her and her boyfriend for participating in certain activities when I walked in on them on the couch..."

"Their own fault," I shrug, taking out my purse. "I'll pay for the shakes," we leave the shop and Aranea drives me back to my house. "What are we doing? Don't you need some clothes? I doubt mine would fit you," she blushes. "Oh God, I hope that didn't sound like I was..."

"No, it's kind of hard not to notice," she waves me off. "Plus, in addition to the difference in bust size, you're a lot taller than me." 

"Yeah. Do you need me to go with you, so you can find my house again?"

"How about we just trade phone numbers?"

"That works," I chuckle. "That works just fine." 


End file.
